


Hold Me Down

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Coming Down [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Cuddling & Snuggling, D/s AU, F/M, M/M, Multi, No Sex, Subdrop, Subspace, flogging - nonexplicit, sub!Aaron Ekblad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron – okay, Aaron might be a sub, but he knows what Doms are like, especially the ones that pick up a big sub like him.  Only the most experienced, or nicest, or most self-aware will stick around for more than perfunctory aftercare.  They’ll wipe him down, make sure he’s not bleeding, ask him if anything hurts, and then they’ll leave, or ask him to.</p><p>He didn't expect Willie to still be awake when he got home from an absolutely amazing flogging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> kind of in response to this sinbin prompt: http://thesinbin.dreamwidth.org/3088.html?thread=3026192#cmt3026192
> 
> I got in the no aftercare and being taken care of by the team, but not the chirping and everything. sorry.
> 
> I do not represent these real people presented as characters, nor do I make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives.

Aaron – okay, Aaron might be a sub, but he knows what Doms are like, especially the ones that pick up a big sub like him.  Only the most experienced, or nicest, or most self-aware will stick around for more than perfunctory aftercare.  They’ll wipe him down, make sure he’s not bleeding, ask him if anything hurts, and then they’ll leave, or ask him to.

 

He’s adjusted.  It’s hard not to, when you go back to your billet family still in subspace, and don’t want to bother them at 3 in the morning because your back suddenly remembers it spent a night with the single-tail.

 

So he meets a Dom while the team’s all out in Lauderdale, goes home with him.  Gets tied to a St. Andrew’s cross and flogged until he’s crying, then fucked so hard he can’t form words.  Untied, cream swiped over the red marks criss-crossing his back.  Shoved into his clothes and then into a cab.  He can barely get Willie’s address out, when the driver asks where he’s going.

 

He knows he has an own aftercare kit – a necessity – waiting for him in his closet, but – shit – he brought it to the arena before their game and had been too swept up in the win to remember to take it home.

 

He’ll manage.

 

He didn’t expect Willie to still be awake when he gets home.

 

“Aaron?” Willie calls when he stumbles in the door.  Aaron pauses, one shoe off.  “Aaron?”

 

He looks up as Willie rounds the corner to foyer.  “Hey,” he says, belatedly.

 

“Are you all right?” Willie asks slowly.  He’s a step away from Aaron, almost reaching for him.  Aaron desperately wants him to.

 

“Yeah,” Aaron responds, kicking his other shoe off.  “I’m great.  I’m…” He takes off his jacket, and the movement rubs his shirt over the marks on his back.  It feels like a fire racing through him, and even though he came, God, 20 minutes ago, his cock starts to harden again.  He shivers.

 

“Sure about that?” Willie’s… skeptical.  But Aaron’s _fine_ , he’ll down some water and go to sleep and won’t drop.

 

“Sure,” Aaron says with an easy smile.  “I’m just gonna – kitchen.”

 

Willie catches him when he stumbles on a step.  “Whoa – bud, let’s get you to bed.”

 

Aaron hums, rubbing his cheek against Willie’s shoulder.  Willie’s got on a worn-through t-shirt, made soft through years of washing, and it feels good to touch.  All he wants to do is touch—

 

“Bed,” Willie says firmly, arm around Aaron’s waist.  Aaron’s got a couple pounds on him, but it doesn’t feel like it when Willie hauls him up the stairs to the master bedroom.

 

Aaron tries to argue, go down the hall to his own room, but he can’t manage more than a few garbled syllables as he’s guided down the hall.

 

“Willie?” Meg asks when they stumble into the room.  She sits up in bed, the light from the hallway barely illuminating her.  “Is Aaron back?”

 

“Sort of,” Willie huffs, pulling Aaron to the bed and lowering him gently onto it.  Meg frowns and turns on the bedside light, then sighs when she sees the dopey grin on Aaron’s face.

 

“Meg,” Aaron murmurs.  He’s not sure how much of her name he actually gets out.

 

“You _said_ you were looking out for him,” she says, pointed at Willie.

 

“I can’t do anything about a Dom that doesn’t do aftercare,” he retorted.  “He’s still in subspace – Meg, I don’t _want_ him to drop.”

 

Aaron tries to grab her hand – he thinks it’s somewhere over his head – and he thinks he gets close.  She moves her hand over his and squeezed gently.

 

Meg knew what it felt like, as a switch.  Aaron couldn’t decide if it was better with Willie or Meg, when he needed to be gentled back to the surface.

 

“Make some chamomile tea,” Meg says, her other hand landing on Aaron’s forehead, sweeping his hair back.  “And those cookies I made the other day.  A bottle of water.”

 

Willie nods, and kisses her quickly before he leaves the room.

 

“Come on, honey,” Meg says, scrunching her fingers through his hair.  “Come on and lie up here.”

 

Aaron groans, but manages to roll over and crawl up the bed.  Meg drags a pillow to the center of the bed; he lays his head on it, curling towards her.

 

“Under the blankets, sweetie.”

 

He looks up at her and plucks uselessly at the duvet.  “Help?”

 

“Of course.”

 

The two of them manage to get Aaron settled under the duvet, his head resting on Meg’s thigh, just as Willie comes back in with a tray.  He settles on the other side of Aaron, tray balanced on his lap.

 

“Wanna sit up for your tea?” Willie asks quietly.  Aaron shakes his head.  “Okay, just – open your mouth, I have a straw.”

 

Aaron opens his mouth, letting Willie slide the straw between his lips.

 

“Slow,” Willie tells him.  Aaron complies, sucking almost-hot tea through the straw.

 

Willie pulls the straw away; Meg holds a cookie to his lips.  Aaron takes a bite and chews slowly.

 

“How’re you feeling?” Willie asks, carding through Aaron’s hair.  “Still good?”

 

“Yeah,” Aaron sighs, closing his eyes.  “‘m tired.”

 

“You can go to sleep once you’ve had half the tea and three cookies,” Willie tells him, tugging on his hair.  “And you’re getting out of those jeans and your buttondown.”

 

“Willie,” Aaron whines.

 

“Do as he says,” Meg tell him, offering him more cookie.  Aaron chews it.

 

Willie and Meg work him through more tea and cookies, alternating between the two of them, and then a couple sips of cold water.

 

“Clothes,” Willie reminds him, when Aaron settles back onto Meg’s thigh.  “C’mon, bud.  You’re not sleeping in those clothes.”

 

Aaron looks up at him, probably pouting.  “Help?”

 

Willie folds the duvet back.  “You’re undoing the buttons yourself.”

 

Aaron takes a few tries to get the fly of his jeans, but he does.  While he wriggles like a dying fish, Willie pulls his jeans down and off.  The shirt’s next; it takes more than a few tries for Aaron to get enough buttons undone that he, and Willie, can pull it over his head.

 

He’s just trying to curl up again when Willie grabs his shoulder.  “Aaron – _shit_.”

 

“Wanna sleep,” Aaron grumbles, curling closer to Meg.

 

“Meg – do you see this?”

 

“Aaron,” Meg says, fingers gentle over his temples.  “Aaron, honey, what did you do with this Dom?  What did he do?”

 

“Flogging,” he slurs into Meg’s thigh.  “S’nice.”

 

“What kind of flogger did he use?”

 

“Different ones.”

 

Willie sighs.  “I’ll get the cream.”

 

Aaron settles against Meg, letting out his breath in a gust.  “Wanna sleep, Meg.”

 

“Go to sleep,” she says, combing through his hair.  “Willie’s going to put something on your back, but you can sleep.”

 

Aaron shivers at the first touch of Willie’s hands, coated in cream, on his back.  He falls asleep.

 

 

.oOo.

 

 

 

He wakes up in the morning with Meg curled into his chest and Willie pressed close to his back.  It – it _burns_ , it must’ve been what woke him up, because it’s like he can feel every swipe from the flogger the night before.

 

Aaron tries to squirm away from Willie, but even just rolling his shoulder makes him hiss.

 

“Hold still,” Willie mutters from behind him, putting a hand on his bicep.  “Breathe.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron gasps, squeezing his hand into a fist.

 

“Don’t tense.”

 

“O _kay_.”

 

“Don’t snap at me,” Willie says sternly.  “We had to – last night—”

 

Aaron’s cheeks burn with shame.  He shouldn’t have come home last night, still wrapped up in subspace, and let Willie and Meg _coddle_ him.  He’d never had to rely on someone.  Even if the Dom he was with didn’t settle him again before sending him home, he’s had practice at doing it himself.  Sure, most of the time he would drop, but that didn’t mean much.  Most subs dropped, a little or a lot.  You couldn’t avoid it completely.

 

“Sorry, Sir,” Aaron replies automatically.  He stares down at Meg’s head on his chest, a couple strands of hair shifting with every breath she took.  “I shouldn’t have made you look after me for that.”

 

“Aaron, that’s not what I’m angry about!”  Willie’s too loud, and Meg starts to stir.  He quiets down.  “I’m angry that you put yourself in that position in the first place!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Aaron whimpers, curling closer to Meg.  “I’m sorry, Sir, I’m sorry.”

 

“How the hell do you let yourself get so deep when you know he won’t bring you out of it?!”

 

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” Aaron looks back over his shoulder at Willie and, shit, he’s close to tears.  “Before, I’ve done it before, I have a kit, it wasn’t…”

 

“You’ve had to do your own aftercare before?” Willie asks, shocked.  Aaron nods quickly.  “Aaron…”

 

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says again.  He’s not completely sure why he’s apologizing.  He wants to look away from Willie, but he doesn’t feel like he has permission.

 

“It’s all right,” Willie soothes, putting his hand on Aaron’s stomach.  “Aaron, it’s fine.”

 

“You’re mad.”  Aaron hates how small he sounds.

 

“Shit,” Willie sighs.  “I’m not good at this.  I’m not… I’m not mad at _you_ , I’m mad at the Doms that didn’t take care of you the way they were supposed to.”

 

“Really?”

 

“If it…” Willie pauses.  “If it happens again, and you’re in subspace or you’re dropping and no one’s there to take care of you, you call me or Meg, okay?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Aaron murmurs, staring at him.

 

“You don’t have to call me that,” Willie says gruffly.  “I’m not… You don’t have to.”

 

“It feels right,” Aaron answers honestly.  “I can… stop?”

 

Willie just shakes his head, patting Aaron’s stomach.

 

“Go back to sleep,” Meg murmurs.  “I’ll make breakfast later.”

 

Aaron’s caught between the two of them – but it’s not a bad thing.  He can’t lean back against Willie; he’s not sure how close he’s allowed to Meg.  He digs his head into the pillow and falls asleep again.

 

 

.oOo.

 

 

 

Aaron’s such a _fuckup_ , he can’t even believe it.  They have a day off, and he’s not doing anything but lying in bed with his iPad propped on a pillow in front of him.  He’s got Netflix up, some suggested comedy playing.  He can’t even laugh at it.

 

Meg had knocked on his door an hour ago, asked if he was coming down for lunch.  He didn’t respond, and when she cracked the door open and peeked in, he pretended to be asleep.

 

Aaron sighs, and huddles under the comforter.  Willie had put more cream on his back after they woke up for breakfast, and his back doesn’t burn when the blanket rubs against it.  He’s just… he doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

 

“Eks, you awake?” Willie calls through the door.

 

Aaron closes his eyes and forces himself to relax into the bed, slowing his breathing.

 

He hears the door creak open.

 

“Aaron?”

 

Aaron stays still as Willie comes closer, kneels on the edge of the bed, brushes Aaron’s hair back from his face.

 

Then Willie sighs, and Aaron thinks he settles next to him.  “I know you’re not asleep.”

 

Aaron sighs, too, and rolls over to face him.  “How did you know?”

 

“You’re never that still when you’re actually sleeping.”

 

Aaron smiles briefly.  “Meg knew, too, then?”

 

“She figured I could deal with why you’re hiding from us.”

 

“I’m not _hiding_ ,” Aaron protests.  “I’m right here.”

 

Willie shakes his head.  “C’mon Aaron.  You know you can tell me, whatever it is.”

 

“It’s nothing.”  Willie gives him a look.  “Really, I’m just… tired?  I don’t know.  But I’m fine.”

 

Willie studies him for a moment; Aaron looks away after a moment.  “What’re you watching?”

 

“I don’t know,” Aaron mutters.  He picks up the iPad and passes it to Willie.  “If you’re staying, you can pick something.”

 

Willie flicks through the browse menu, finally settling on _The Office_.  “You can actually fall asleep, if you want.  Meg says I’m a good pillow.”

 

“Thanks,” Aaron mutters, laying his head carefully on Willie’s chest.  Willie props the iPad on his knees, so they can both see the screen.

 

Aaron’s wondered how a switch and a Dom manage to keep a relationship going.  But Willie’s not an aggressive Dom – he’s _caring_ , it’s always about someone else, and he’s just _there_ for you.

 

“Thanks,” Aaron says again.  Willie must know Aaron’s not talking about this, but the whole day and last night and every other time Willie’s helped him out.

 

“Any time, Eks.”

 

 

.oOo.

 

 

 

Aaron’s not better by the next game.  He can fake it well enough, work as hard at morning skate as he always does, and push it out of his mind during pregame and warmups and through the game itself.  But it crashes down on him when he’s sitting in his stall after the game, methodically picking the tape from his socks, and he suddenly can’t breathe.

 

“Eks?” Jagr asks, leaning towards him.  “Hey, you okay?”

 

“Fine,” Aaron gasps, still doubled-over in his stall.

 

Jagr’s hand lands, firm and heavy, on the back of Aaron’s neck and squeezes.  “Breathe with me, Eks.  In…”  Aaron sucks in a breath.  “Out.”  Aaron lets it go in a gust.

 

“What’s up with Eks?” Huberdeau calls from the other side of the room.  “Can’t get his tape off on his own?  Needs Granddad to do it.”

 

Neither Aaron nor Jags answer him, and everyone quiets down.

 

“C’mon, breathe,” Jags coaxes him, squeezing his neck again.  “You know how to do that.”

 

“Head between your knees,” Lu says, appearing on his other side, still in his pads.  Aaron does it without a second thought.  Jags doesn’t let go of his neck; he’s glad for it.

 

“What’s going on?” Willie’s sharp voice cuts across the murmurs of the other players.  Aaron wants to look up, find his captain, but he can’t.  He hears as everyone shuffles out of the way, so Willie can see him.  “Shit—“

 

“Drop?” Lu asks, his hand settling on Aaron’s back and rubbing firmly along his spine.

 

Willie crouches in front of Aaron and pushes his hair back, just enough so he can see Aaron’s face.  Aaron stares blankly at him, his eyes wide and lips parted to get as much air as he can.

 

“Yeah,” Willie sighs, cupping Aaron’s face in his sweaty hands.  “Hey, someone get a Gatorade over here.  See if any of the trainers have fruit or something.”

 

A couple of the guys thunder away, calling out trainers’ names in their search.

 

“Kit,” Aaron gasps, hoping Willie remembers what he’d said about his aftercare kit the day before.  “Trainers.”

 

“Hubs,” Willie calls, turning away from Aaron for a second.  “One of the trainers has his aftercare kit.  Find it, would ya?”

 

He must agree, because Willie turns back to Aaron, petting over his cheeks gently.

 

“Keep breathing for Jags, c’mon,” Willie tells him.  Aaron swallows the spit in his mouth and nods, listening as Jags keeps counting breathes with him, and Lu keeps rubbing his back.

 

Hubs is back soon, the familiar navy blue bag landing between Aaron’s skates.  Willie tears into it, laying the apple juice and cookies to the side in favor of the thick fleece blanket folded at the bottom.  “Let’s get his pads off.”

 

Aaron lets Lu, Jags, and Willie pull him into a sitting position, and carefully pull of his pads.  They get him enough off the bench that they can tug his pants off, and finally get the tape and socks off, so he’s left in his underarmor.

 

He shivers, and the blanket lands over his shoulders.  Jagr and Lu press up on either side of him again, Lu’s arm around his waist and Jags’s hand back on his neck.

 

“Drink,” Willie says gently, holding the bottle of juice to his lips.  Aaron wants to suck it down, drink the whole bottle, but Willie only gives him a small sip at a time.  Then, there’s a cookie against his lips.  “Eat.”

 

Aaron closes his eyes as he chews, leaning into the strong arms around him.  He feels – safe, with the three Doms pressed close to him, and the rest of the team, all switches and Doms, hovering nearby.

 

“Breathe,” Jags reminds him.  Aaron sinks back into the pattern of breathes Jags had coached him through before.

 

“There you go,” Willie murmurs, when Aaron stops shivering.  “There you go, Eks, you’re good.”

 

His head falls against Lu’s shoulder, against the hard pads under his jersey.  It feels more comfortable than it should, probably.

 

“Thanks,” he whispers, the most that he can manage.

 

“Don’t need to thank us,” Lu tells him, rubbing his back gently.  “We’ll always look after you.”

 

Aaron wants to say he doesn’t need it, they don’t need to watch out for him, but he does need it.  He couldn’t get through this on his own.  He smiles tiredly, tucking his chin into the blanket.

 

“There you go,” Willie says again, combing through Aaron’s hair.  “Let us take care of you.”

 

Aaron does.

**Author's Note:**

> (Drop can pop up days or weeks after a scene, or just last for days. If you're involved in BDSM, please please look up proper aftercare procedure and what subdrop and topdrop look like)
> 
> title from the Halsey song


End file.
